Fight or Flight
by obsessed1
Summary: Adrenaline is a dangerous thing. Shep angstwhump


Title: Fight or Flight

Author: Obsessed1  
Character(s): Sheppard and team  
Genre(s): Stargate Atlantis: Gen. Angst. H/C.  
Rating: PG?

_Epinephrine is a "__fight or flight__" hormone which is released from the adrenal glands when danger threatens or in an emergency. When secreted into the bloodstream, it rapidly prepares the body for action in emergency situations. The hormone boosts the supply of oxygen and glucose to the brain and muscles, while suppressing other non-emergency bodily processes._

Between leaving the carnage behind on Mx487 and arriving back to Atlantis, Sheppard seemed to have slipped into a dreamlike fugue. He felt dislocated from reality; every voice was too loud, the lights were too bright and his ears were ringing. He couldn't shake the images of the dead, couldn't stop smelling the acridness of burnt flesh and he couldn't stop hearing the sound of staccato gunfire.

He was weary to the bone, head aching as he clenched his jaw in a bid to stop from screaming.

What they'd witnessed…….

No amount of battle readiness had prepared them. Any of them.

The injured soldiers were handed off to the medical team one by one and there were the inevitable questions; they had been gone for four days, and then there was Beckett informing him to go straight to the infirmary after he had stowed his gear. He wasn't injured, just mercilessly tired.

"Are you okay Colonel?"

"I'm fine. Just a little tired."

"Aye, I can imagine."

With a nod, a forced smile for composure, he managed to slip out of the commotion unnoticed, staggering down the halls like a drunk, using his bloody hands to trace along the walls for some stability. He forwent checking his weapons back into the armoury and headed straight for his quarters. Dropping his P90 onto the bed as if it burned his fingers he sank down beside it with a heavy sigh.

_Fight or flight. _

His hands, his clothes; they were all covered in blood and soiled with the stench of death. He could feel bile rising in his throat and clamped his eyes shut to stop the world from spinning.

"_Sir?"_

Lorne wanted to check he was okay; he hadn't seen him in the armoury or the infirmary. Sheppard didn't want to talk. Didn't feel like he could force the words out of his tightly constricted throat.

Sheppard ripped out his earpiece and slammed it down beside him. He knew the others would be waiting for him. Carson would be pacing the infirmary in anticipation of his arrival, his team mates would now have heard the gory details and he couldn't face it.

He was so utterly exhausted. He hadn't noticed it before; a mixture of adrenaline and healthy fear had kept him moving and now he was still he could feel his heart struggling to stay in rhythm, the clamminess of his hands, the tremors in his arms as he tried to remain upright

Even with his earpiece resting beside him, he could still hear the shrill pitched voice calling him.

He started to take off his tac vest, instinctively removing the contents of the pockets, but found none there. He'd used all of his ammo. His C4 had gone.

He took in deep breath and wondered why his head felt so fuzzy. The comedown from an adrenaline rush usually just made him feel shaky. He'd never felt so disturbing detached.

The explosion.

_Fight._

He scrubbed a hand through his hair.

He hadn't given himself enough time to escape from that last blast. He could still feel the explosive force propelling him forwards and his hearing even now was a little muffled. He'd landed hard, but he hadn't the luxury to sit still and recover. He had pulled himself back to his feet, retrievied his fallen P90, moved past weariness and into hyperawareness.

Tac vest removed, Sheppard started to bend down to remove his boots.

He was panting hard, feeling dizzy and uncoordinated and it struck him that something might actually be wrong. He tried again, breathing through it, got half way and sucked in a painful breath.

Broken ribs?

It wasn't a sharp pain he realised. It was more a dull ache.

Confused, he straightened up and carefully touched his side. He was surprised when he felt wetness there and even more so when he pulled his fingers up to his face and they were covered in bright red blood.

"Huh?"

It took a moment from his addled brain to catch up. Not exhaustion.

He had assumed that all of the blood on him had been from the dying he had tried to help or the ones he had knifed in the back before they could do harm.

He swallowed thickly and looked down, realising that the waistband of his BDU's were dark and glistening and worryingly it extended down to his knee.

When he lifted his t-shirt his weariness met with painful awareness. There was a piece of shrapnel embedded in his side.

"Oh."

He held his hand over his side in an attempt to stop his blood seeping out, but it was just slipping between his fingers.

There were droplets of blood on his floor, blood smeared on his bed covers – and he _just_ hadn't felt it. Adrenaline had masked any injury and only now was he was beginning to understand his lethargy, his dizziness, his muddled thoughts.

He edged forward on his bed, one hand pressed against his side, the other attempting to lever him up. He didn't have the strength and listed to his side, coughing painfully and tasting something coppery in his mouth.

He was just picking up his earpiece when the door whooshed open and his team were walking in. He was about to speak when McKay cut him off with a raised hand.

"Carson is waiting for-"

Sheppard waited for the penny to drop.

"-in the infirmary."

McKay stopped speaking abruptly and it was Teyla who was sitting beside him and holding him upright before he slipped off the edge of the bed.

"Colonel…" she removed his hand from his side and examined his injury.

"I didn't think it was my blood," Sheppard said, just to hear his voice. It sounded pinched with pain and a little shaky.

"How did this happen?" Teyla asked holding his blood soaked hand in hers and squeezing it tightly.

"I was too close to the blast," Sheppard said, feeling his eyelids drooping.

McKay was white as a sheet, babbling about something or other and he couldn't seem to tune into it. He just wanted to sleep and forget the last four days had happened. McKay hadn't been there. He hadn't seen what he had.

"What happened out there?" McKay managed to strangle out as Teyla radioed for a medical team.

Sheppard dropped his head, fighting the compulsion to pass out, "You don't want to know," and he looked up, mustering a serious look.

"Well..just…" and McKay was pacing back and forth, "Just stay awake and….."

Sheppard leaned into Teyla, wanting nothing more to just sleep but their voices were urging him to stay alert.

"It's not bad," he said drowsily, "It's fine."

"You're…..you're bleeding a lot!" he heard McKay say, "There's blood everywhere. You didn't notice?"

Sheppard blinked and it felt like the time between closing his eyes and re-opening them was a painful eternity.

"Thought it wasn't mine."

Teyla was helping him lie back onto his bed, pressing her hands onto his side. The pressure hurt and he groaned.

"Stay awake Colonel," Teyla whispered.

No, it wasn't a whisper. He was just slipping away into unconsciousness.

"Come on John."

He felt a light tap to his cheek, another warm body sitting beside him, their heat bleeding into him.

"What happened out there?" McKay was saying.

"I do not know but this……John, stay awake."

Sheppard had little recollection of what happened after that. He'd felt the sensations of movement, light touch, his clothes being removed, an oxygen mask being placed over his mouth. He had woken after surgery confused and in the grip of a raging fever. He hadn't been coherent. In fact, he was pretty sure he had been quite rude to the nursing staff, but forced sedation had calmed him, allowed his weary bones to relax and then there was a pleasant nothingness.

_Fight or flight._

In the middle of the night, he woke surrounded by his team-mates. Their sleeping faces were all hard lines and etched with concern.

Sheppard sat up a little, cursing the cumbersome bandage around his torso that restricted his movements.

_Fight or flight._

"Hey, you're awake."

Sheppard blinked into the darkness and nodded.

_Fight._

_Just a wee drabble to fill the time between my various fics._


End file.
